Luang Prabang, Laos: Slow Boats and Fast Friends
“Marijuana? Marijuana?” asked two Laotian men as they hustled down the aisle of our docked boat, peppering passengers with offers of free pot, hostels, and food in the riverside stopover town called Pak Beng.
“No, thanks,” Louise and I responded, slightly confused about this Laotian welcome.
“Ohhh, opium! Opium?” nodded the men vigorously, convinced we obviously wanted the addictive and highly illegal substance instead of basic pot.
“Wait, what? No!”
We were officially in the Golden Triangle drug trade territory.
After a land border crossing from Thailand to Laos, we climbed aboard a thin, colorful boat furnished with recycled car seats that would take us on a lazy, two-day journey down the Mekong River. Our ultimate destination was Luang Prabang, but Pak Beng would host us for the night.
It turns out that riding a boat for six hours a day while deflecting drug propositions is a lasting bonding experience. We met three hilarious Brits—Kahn, Ellie, and James—on the slow boat to Luang Prabang. Louise and I joyfully traveled with them and a few other new friends—Avi from Israel and Zen and Marshall from the US—the rest of our time in Laos.
The Prague of Asia
A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the northern Laotian city of Luang Prabang reflects remnants of its past as an ancient kingdom capital and French colonial foothold. It quietly sits in a lush mountain valley encircled by the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers.
Coming from Thailand, which was the region in Indochina never colonized by France, the European architectural and culinary influence in Luang Prabang struck me. Wide boulevards, patisseries, and espresso cafes fit in next to mosaic-covered Buddhist temples and palm trees. We bartered for baguettes instead of curries.
When we climbed Mount Phou Si in the city center to gaze at Luang Prabang from above our first day, it seemed I was atop a tropical version of Petrin Hill in Prague. The red roofs and white houses recalled the fairytale feeling I had in the Czech Republic. I couldn’t wait to explore more.
During the week we spent in Luang Prabang, Louise and I biked around the city, popped into upscale handicraft stores, waited out monsoon rains in riverside cafes, and even enjoyed high tea with scones. We splurged on batik pillow cases at the night market, sought out traditional Lao food (which was surprisingly difficult to do for being in Laos), and ventured down a dark alleyway to find the backpacker’s “Utopia” bar. It was there we found the rest of our travel pack.
Waterfall-ing
Luang Prabang serves as a gateway to two exceptional waterfalls: Kuang Si and Tad Sae.
Kuang Si is an Instagrammer’s dream. The water is turquoise blue, thanks to the white limestone rocks and mineral deposits. You can swing over a lagoon, hike to the top of the 10-story waterfall, or shroud yourself in the mysterious mist at the bottom.
It’s fittingly fraught with tourists and a corresponding mess of selfie sticks.
But I literally fell into the trap. Preoccupied with photographing the multi-layer lagoons and hiking to the top of Kuang Si, I slipped on the area’s wet rocks and fell flat on my back in a shallow lagoon. I got decent pictures but significant bruises.
My camera also endured water damage, so most of the pictures I share from Laos are Louise’s. (Amazingly and thankfully, my camera later revived itself in Vietnam!)
Tad Sae is therefore my favorite waterfall in Laos. It’s not as tall or vast as Kuang Si, but it’s more remote and chill. We journeyed there via truck and boat with Zen, Avi, and Marshall and had the place to ourselves.
Hiking from lagoon to lagoon with Beer Lao in hand and falling into new friendships (instead of water) was the highlight of my time in Luang Prabang.
By Mel Grau
